The 22nd Hunger Games
by LukeFarrer
Summary: After District 2 have won three consecutive Games, will they bring forth yet another victor? This year's tributes seem to be very diverse, featuring a brute perfectionist from District 1, a pair of underdogs from District 10 and a beautiful blonde from District 6. In the Hunger Games, even Capitol favourites can die, and no one is safe...


**Sarinus Wilde – District 1**

Sarinus had never been so excited in his entire life. Out of every single child that lived in District 1, it was he who was chosen to be this year's volunteer. For six years Sarinus had trained in the art of death and survival, waiting until he was eighteen and at maximum level for his Games.

As he shaved the small areas of stubble on his face he thought of previous reapings. Some years other children had volunteered before the selected tribute had time to, ruining their years of hard work and preparation. If anyone were to volunteer and steal Sarinus' crown, he would see to it that they didn't live much longer. One year he could remember that the girl that was chosen to volunteer was actually reaped!_ What were the odds!_

Sarinus strode over to the mirror where he examined his outfit for the reaping. His muscles bulged out of his dark green shirt, his bulge and butt filing his tight trousers. As a very attractive boy, he was going to use this to his advantage. He had had his way with many girls from 1, and now he was going to show his perfection to the women of the Capitol.

He swaggered into the living room, where his entire extended family clapped as he entered. Mom stood up from the sofa, comb in hand, and went for Sarinus' dark black hair. She managed to strike the comb through his hair once before he batted it away with "Leave me alone, Mom! My hair's fine!" As aunts and uncles laughed, Sarinus' father walked over to him and took his hand. He knew his father had wanted to volunteer in his youth, but had not been given the privilege. As Dad fiercely shook Sarinus, he delivered "You look striking son… Knock 'em dead," with a hearty grin.

"That I will," chuckled Sarinus.

"Oh my baby!" Mom took Sarinus by the chin and made him lower his head whilst she kissed his head. "It seems like only yesterday I had to bend over to kiss your head!"

"Mom! Stop embarrassing me!" he strained in a jokey tone, earning one more laugh from his relatives. All the attention was on Sarinus, and he loved every bit of it.

"Oh for goodness sake" sighed Aunt Cadbu. "Can we please _leave?_ If I have to watch my beautiful nephew get reaped from behind a bloody crowd I will be furious. I want to be right at the front." There was a murmur of agreement and after a couple more greetings and congratulations, Sarinus and his family all began their journey to the Justice Building.

Friends, strangers, _everyone _congratulated Sarinus as he walked through the crowds. Hugs, pats on the backs, and even the occasional kiss were given as he paced through the weaker residents of District 1. Just before he arrived at the eighteen-year-old male section, he happened to see a crowd parting opposite him. As he suspected, in the center of this crowd was Bolt, his fellow tribute in this year's Games. As he hugged the small girl the rest of the crowd swooned, boy and girl alike. She was attractive (albeit not as attractive as Sarinus) and known for being a bit of a slut at her school. She had hair the same colour as his own and they both had a tanned complexion. All the colours were the same, including their eyes, but the shape of everything was what dismissed the theory that they were siblings. Sarinus knew her only from training where he admired her skill with a bow and arrow. _A girl's weapon_, he thought with a smirk as he whispered "best of luck" into the girl's ear.

"Right back at 'ya" she shouted, putting on a show for the surrounding children. With a wink, she seemed to gallop back to the female eighteen-year-old area.

On the stage, the mayor stepped forward, introduced by the applause given from his District. After him came this year's mentors: Mineral Moore and Blink Thoday. Mineral was tall and muscular with flat brown/blonde hair, in his mid thirties. He had won an early Hunger Games: Sarinus was alive but too young to remember. His partner, Blink, was in her early twenties, having won the 15th Hunger Games the year before Sarinus was eligible for reaping. She was a rather ugly girl with a flat, fishlike face and short blond hair. She lost her left hand in the Games and as a result had an ugly stump where it used to be. Neither adults were Sarinus' mentors of choice, but he was happy all the same.

As soon as the mayor rapped up his boring speech Meredith Aliabadi stepped forward, a tall slender woman with bright green curly hair and thick round glasses, tripling the size of her eyes. She was beloved in District 1 and earned a clap near the volume of that of the mentors.

"Why, hello District 1!" she shrilled. "Did you miss me?"

The reply of screams and shouts answered her question, to which she replied with a tight yet sincere smile.

As per, she tittered over to the girl's glass sphere and took the first piece of paper that kissed her fingers.

"_Annabel Hart" _she screamed. Cheers and claps erupted as a skinny girl from the seventeen year old section walked to the stage. Every boy and girl wished it were his or her name that was called out: a short fifteen seconds of fame without the risk of death. The girl pouted and waved as Meredith asked "any volunteers?"

"_I volunteer as tribute" _Bolt shouted with her squeaky, high-pitched, and slightly nasal voice. Annabel waved her last goodbyes to the cameras as she passed Bolt on the stairs to the stage. The two girls hugged before Bolt took the microphone and blathered some shit that would earn her a couple more sponsors. _In the end, it all comes down to the training score_, Sarinus thought.

"Get ready boys" said Meredith as she moved closer to the other bowl. An empty hand went in the bowl and when it returned it had a small piece of paper within its clutch.

"_Bailey Li" _

A tiny scream was heard as a small, eastern-looking runt ran to the stage, his little entourage of friends cheering as he did. _What a schmuck_. Sarinus looked to his friends and just as Meredith opened her mouth he bellowed, "_I, Sarinus Wilde, volunteer as tribute."_

"My, my, how eager!" The crowd of children parted for Sarinus as he waded through the boys, who seemed to get younger and younger as he walked forward. As he passed the scrawny boy that had just been reaped, he wanted nothing more than to push him onto his face, but as the cameras were watching he took the boy's hand and shook it. He saw the boy's smile die as he crunched his hand harder and harder, but he finally let go and walked to the microphone. "District 1, say hello to your newest victor!" As he winked, he could feel the horny teenagers coo. _So it begins. _

Meredith took a hold of Bolt's wrist, then Sarinus'. She pulled them to the microphone and shrieked: "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you District 1's tributes for the 22nd Annual Hunger Games: Bolt Wade and Sarinus Wilde!"

The roar was intense, and it was all for Sarinus. Well, Sarinus and Bolt… The scream seemed to carry on for at least five minutes and by this point Sarinus and Bolt were laughing, shivering and beaming at the cameras. The only thing that could top this feeling was coming back as a victor.

A couple peacekeepers ushered the two young adults into the Justice Building where they were split up and put into two separate rooms. Soon the atmosphere was just as it had been in his living room prior to the reaping. Some women were crying with happiness, other men cheering with adrenaline and proudness. Soon after hugs and kisses and pats and congrats, his friends from school replaced his family and instantly bundled him. Sarinus was pinched and slapped and punched by his friends as he was laughing, "get the fuck off of me! If I am bruised for the parade I swear to god I'll kill you".

"What's your token? What's your token?" yelled Rub, the only one of his mates that was taller than him.

_Fuck_.

"I forgot. Oh no, my Mom is gonna kill me…"

"Why, what was it?" asked Joel with his stupid lisp.

"It was a toy train that I've had since I was a baby." Sarinus loved trains, and one of the things he had been looking forward to most was the train journey to and from the Capitol.

Just before Sarinus was going to ask his friends for a token, the peacekeepers entered and pushed them out the door. Sarinus was escorted to the car, pissed off without his token.

**Nayus Howard – District 10**

Nayus had never been in a car before. He had been in a bus and a shuttle, but never a car. They were small. _I hate cars. _Nayus had been so embarrassed. He had cried his eyes out and made a fool of himself on the stage. He had so much to say to his family, his friends, but all that came out were sobs and cries. He had hardly said two words to them before they were pulled from his arms. His District partner, River, hadn't shed a tear. She _stank. _Nayus thought that the smell on stage was something else, but as they sat next to each other in the car he realised that the pungent smell that filled his nostrils was she.

"I-" began Nayus, before his voice broke and he felt as though he was going to burst into another flood of emotion.

She remained silent. She wasn't going to be his friend.

She remained silent the rest of the journey, as did Nayus apart from the odd snivel or whimper. Nayus looked on at the silent crowds as they looked at the car. The only bit of emotion or anything that River gave off is how she sat up when she looked at the train. A couple seconds after the car stopped moving, a peacekeeper was at each door and they were ushered to the train. The odd camera flash or reporter would take Nayus and River by surprise, but as soon as the door shut behind them the noise became silence. Nayus ran to the window to find Mom, Dad or Jacob, or any of his friends, but if they were there they were lost in the sea of heads. He turned and noticed that River was sitting down. _I wonder if she has any family_, he enquired within.

Mariah Sherpa, their escort, waltzed through the door. Her black hair (which surely couldn't be real) fell below her waist and covered most of her body (which was mostly bare). If the reaping took place in the winter she would be freezing. Lucky for her, it was a nice day.

"Now, my poor, _poor_, children, I-" she stopped dead in her tracks and sniffed. "Goodness…" she whispered. She tiptoed through the carriage; nose first, trying to detect the scent. Due to River's stained, rugged clothes, she went to her first. She took a drag of the girl and covered her mouth with a gasp. "My poor, _poor_ River. You must have a shower at once. I was going to go through protocol with you and Nayus, but I cannot continue with – well, you know…"

Mariah basically pushed River out of the carriage and a few minutes later they returned. River was in a fresh set of clothing. She was barefoot with a short white dress on. Her long, streaky, frizzy, greasy brown hair was now made into a smaller haircut with a plat or something tying it all together, revealing a pretty face with a mole on it's cheek. Mariah returned in procession.

"Now, Nayus! I need a male opinion. How much better does River look?"

She looked a lot better for sure, but Nayus would just look stupid if he told her she was beautiful or eloquent. "You look a lot better" he forced in the loudest voice he could (which turned out to be a decibel above a whisper).

"Wonderful" tittered Mariah as she swayed River and Nayus into some luscious, cushioned chairs. "Now, as you know, District 10 has never won the Games. As a result you have no mentor, so I must mentor you in place. I have never had hands on experience with the Games, but I have watched every single Games very carefully, so I can tell you what not to do."

She crossed her legs and then her hands. "What I'm about to tell you may shock or surprise you, but I promise you it's the truth". Nayus leaned forward; River stayed slumped.

"It's all about the image."

River sighed and rolled her eyes whilst Nayus concealed his doubt. "Now now young lady, trust me. You know what happened to your tributes last year."

"They both died" River snapped back. "Why do _you_ think they died, Mary? Because they were put in an arena to fight to the death or because the girl forgot to brush her hair that morning?"

"My name is _Mariah_ and don't you dare raise your voice with me." _Silence. _It was uncomfortably tense in the carriage. After an unbearable minute or so, Mariah shifted her gaze from River onto her hair and pushed a small part of it back into place. She cleared her throat. "Yes, both of them did die… but for the wrong reasons. Both the boy and the girl were clever, smart, and they both could have won the Games if you ask me. The only issue was that they were both – how should I say – boring, in want of a better word."

"_Boring? _How dare-"

Mariah silenced River with a few tuts and a raised finger. "Both of them were killed the Gamemakers. The boy by a tornado and the girl from some mutts, if I remember correctly." Nayus knew that she did remember correctly. He remembered very well. "Neither died at the hands of another tribute." Mariah rose and began to slowly move through the carriage, her perfume wafting in all directions. "When no one has died in a few days, or nothing interesting has happened, the Gamemakers interfere. They target tributes with traps and ridicule to cut the numbers and make a nice show. Who do you think they target with this torture? The beautiful, strong, Capitol favorites whom everyone cheers for; or the grubby, mean, boring tributes?" Nayus and River stared at her in silence. Nayus had never thought about it, but she was right…

"And there you have it. The secret of the Hunger Games." She slowly moved out of the cabin, leaving her floral aroma, almost as pungent as River's former smell.

The two tributes from District 10 shared a look and Nayus heard the first words from River he had all day: "I hate to say it, but I think she's right."

**River Lander – District 10**

"Shall we get to know a bit more about each other then?" the boy asked. River instantly regretted opening her mouth at all. She could tell the boy was looking for a friend – a mother figure to help guide him through the Games. That was the only way the younger tributes made it through the Games. _He's not going to make an ally out of me. _River was a lone wolf.

She made uncomfortable eye contact with him, his bug eyes fixed on her. _He's not going to last five minutes, _River thought with a sense of guilt. _No. This is exactly what I didn't want._ Without another word River got up and went back to her quarters. As much as she hated to admit it, the shower was out of this world. She couldn't wait to hop into the bed, as it would be just as good.

River Lander was right.

She sank into the bed like a feather landing into a pile of feathers. She rolled around in the duvet for a couple of seconds before pulling herself together. She grabbed the remote and pointed it at the television. Despite there being an absence of buttons on the remote, River still somehow turned the screen on and in a flash Tiberius Power was ranting about the tributes.

"-Continues to the first showing of the reapings! I believe the editors are finishing the later District's off and we are hoping to start District 1's reaping within the next hour!"

River almost wretched as she watched Capitol bullshit about fashion. _Meredith was right. _Some more interviews and bullshit statistics blurred on the screen. Apparently District 5 was supposed to have high odds of winning for some reason or another. River remembered that their girl lasted long last year, but was nothing too special. She was no career from 1, 2 or 4. The Districts with the worst odds, surprisingly, was District 2, even though they had won the last three years consecutively. _Even the Capitol data is full of crap. _

Five minutes before the reapings were scheduled to start there was a light tap at the door. "River, it's me, Nayus" bleated the boy like a lost sheep. He was well spoken, clearly from a background far from River's own. The pain of the Hunger Games was going to be a new experience for him. "The reapings start soon. I'm not asking to watch them with you or anything… just letting you know that they're on". _He's so awkward, _thought River, but then she remembered that there was a five-year age gap between them, after all.

River tucked under the covers and waited for the boring anticipation to end. Finally, a green haired buffoon walked through District 1's Justice Building ready to announce the names.

For District 1 there were two volunteers, as usual. There was a terrifyingly strong man, sure to be a Capitol favourite. The girl was small and cute, but she still had muscle about her.

The next two tributes were from District 2 and were surprisingly not as bad as River thought they were going to be. They won the last three Games, so River was looking for two killing machines again, but the girl was blonde with a chubby face. Sure, she was more muscled that average, but she didn't look that threatening. The boy was even shorter than River was. _He looks like a little shit_, she thought. He reminded her of Blood, a boy from her orphanage. That was the last thing she needed.

The pair from District 3 were both threatening and strong, as were they from District 4. _Why couldn't I just have been given twenty-three little twerps like Nayus?_

The pair from District 5 were both small, weedy and bland. _So much for the Capitol predictions. _Yet again, the boy reminded her of Blood: his appearance was very similar to the boy from District 2. The girl from District 6 was both beautiful and intimidating, by far the most beautiful tribute so far. The boy was the same age as Nayus, although taller and more broad.

The girl from 7 was also very pretty, the boy marching from the eighteen year old section with an extreme weight to his step. River certainly didn't want to cross paths with him.

The pair from District 8 were both small and boring (maybe it is all about image after all). The girl from 9 looked so cute and innocent, whereas her counter partner was _really _tall. When Nero announced that he was only fifteen River almost gasped.

River's own grubby self came on the screen. She avoided mirrors for the most part, and now she knew why. "Wow, she certainly isn't from the Capitol is she" blurted Nero. For the first time today River came close to tears. She quickly suppressed this emotion and swallowed her anger and sadness. Nero moved his comments onto Nayus, who was "Cute but close to drowning in his own tears."

The rest of the tributes were nothing to remember. River tried to close her eyes and think of her fellow corpses. At a guess, she thought that it was either going to be a District 1 or District 3 victory this year. She thought about possible alliances: The boy from District 5 or the girls from 7 or 9. All three of them were too young to be River's friend, so she instantly dismissed the possibility for an alliance with anyone: last of all Nayus. River was going to go into this Game alone, and she probably wasn't going to come out.

**Cere Corney – District 3**

Cere could not sleep. How could anyone after seeing the people you were supposed to kill one after the other in an attempt to stay alive? _I can't kill, but I must_, thought Cere. She was a tall girl with a lot more muscle than most, which instantly gave her an advantage to the other female tributes. _I've got to know more. _Her mentors were Benton Bush and Benedict Churchill. Both had told her and Fait the basics, but for Cere that wasn't enough.

She pointed the remote at the television and searched for Benedict Churchill. Floods of information burst onto the screen and Cere soon found herself watching his Games. The television gave an option to select a tribute and show you their highlights. _Perfect, _thought Cere.

Benedict's arena was entirely muddy and the tributes were greeted with downpour. Over the year's the arenas have improved, as clearly shown by this year's basic environment. Almost instantly Benedict threw a shuriken into the neck of District 2's brute. It wasn't surprising to see that even back then the tributes from 1, 2 and 4 allied and dominated, but suddenly that wasn't the case. The pair from District 4 ran off into the fog, leaving only the boy from 1 and the girl from 2. _They've done it! The tributes from the outer Districts have taken the cornucopia! No wonder Benedict was all for Fait and I to form an alliance. _After a few fatalities, Benedict was left with three other tributes to guard the supplies. Despite knowing that it was all coming to an end for the majority of them, they all helped treat each other's wounds, helped feed each other, and helped each other _survive! _

When one person died, another was recruited, but sooner or later Benedict found himself in the final four. In a dramatic turn of events, Benedict found himself against the boy from 1. He ended it all with one shuriken and almost went home uninjured if it wasn't for the prick throwing two knives into Benedict's leg before he finally gave up and died. Cere went to touch her cheek and realised it had a tear running down it. Never had she become so attached to the Hunger Games, but then again never had she had to accept the fact that she was entering them.

She was about to watch Benton's but stopped herself. Cere was twelve when Benton won and could remember Benton's Games quite clearly. Benton also formed an alliance with some other tributes, and (although she had killed previously in the Games) managed to avoid the final showdown when the injured girl from District 1 killed herself for reasons Cere could never quite understand. Both her mentors had survived the Games, and both of them formed alliances in the arena. _Maybe I should do the same… _

Sunrise came too early. Cere was eager to propose her theory to Fait, but wasn't up for the arrival to the Capitol. She felt a sort of resentment or hatred for the residents of the Capitol, but she knew it was misdirected. Just as Cere couldn't help being born in District 3, none of the Capitolians could help being born into their strange culture, or being brought up with their positive views of the Hunger Games.

After a while Cere felt a knock on her door and, as she suspected, it was Amelus calling for breakfast. She hopped in the shower for no more than a minute after giving up on the complications that was the shampoo (if she wanted one in the living quarters she was going to have to ask an Avox).

Cere scanned the wardrobe and plucked out the simplest garb she saw: a short black dress, which after she had put on she noticeably realised that the itchiness she suffered from putting on clothes after washing had vanished. _Oh to live the life of luxury._

When Cere arrived everyone was sitting eating his or her breakfast with the exception of Amelus, which she considered odd. From what she had gathered, escorts where everywhere the tributes were (or were supposed to be), but then again someone with such lavish styles as he would spend a lot of time getting ready in the morning.

"Good morning everyone" smiled Cere as she took the seat closest to the door.

"Ah wonderful!" exclaimed Benedict. "I'm glad you arrived when you did, Cere, as Fait has an idea for you two. Remember, Benton and I won't pressure you into anything, but our advice is a benefit you shouldn't take for granted. Now if you'll excuse me, I just need to phone my wife." With a smile, Benedict began to limp out of the room. It wasn't always noticeable, but this morning Cere thought it looked particularly painful.

As he was leaving the cabin, he and Amelus crossed paths. This morning, Amelus wore giant, circular sunglasses (despite the lack of sunlight in the cabin), a heap of jewelry around his neck, a black and white striped outfit with his black afro styled in the shape of, well, Cere didn't know what. He claimed to style his outfit always in metal, wood or stone. In his mouth hung a cigarette holder, the contents being the same caramel brown of his own skin.

"Why is your cigarette brown?" asked Fait as he stood up and made his way to the breakfast table. It was only then that Cere noticed the variety of colour, size and smell that wafted her way. She felt a pit of hunger swell in her stomach.

"Why, have you never seen one before?" he shot back.

"It's a liquorish cigarette," answered Benton in her soft yet striking voice. Bi-annual trips to the Capitol had made a more posh accent out of her. It some how made her seem even more beautiful. As usual, she had in her hand her notebook: a leather-bound pad with an etching of a deer on the front, surrounded by flowers. She took a look at Cere, smiled, and entered her world of literature once more.

"Cere, doll, why is your plate empty? You won't get food like this in the arena, girl! Try some of the hazelnut bread, don't be shy with the butter." Cere did as she was told, and the food was bliss, although the bread didn't taste much lie hazelnut. Her favourite thing on the table was a strange fruit called kiwi, whilst she also indulged in some pink fish from District 4 and had two sausages. "I understand you three want to talk tactics, but there's lots of time for that – beautiful dress by the way, Cere. A bit too plain, you need some accessory. Anyway, the Capitol is not far away and the last thing I want is two sheepish tributes representing District 3 and myself". He walked to Fait, took him by the shoulders and stood him from his seat. Fait was very tall and broad. He had auburn hair and a freckle covered face with brown eyes and a shrew-like bone structure. He was taller than Amelus, and far more muscled. "Fait, _perfect_. Stand like that and I'll sponsor you myself. Cere, doll, stand where you are".

Cere stood. She wasn't tall, nor was she too short, possibly being five foot six or seven. Despite this she had a very built frame, a product from hauling heavy materials for the last six years of her life. "Your physicality is atrocious" snarled Amelus. "We're gonna work on this before we arrive. Fait, put something else on. I want to see those arms, boy."

After an excruciatingly tedious and boring half an hour with Amelus swatting her shoulders and chin, the three adults sat with the children and had empty conversations whilst they waited to arrive. Fait was pacing up and down the carriage explaining to Benedict and Benton where he lived in 3 before cutting himself off. "We're here," he said, pacing to the window and pressing his face against the glass.

"Welcome to the Capitol, kids" Benedict said with an outstretched hand. "Despite how disgusting it is, you can't help but admire it's beauty". He was right. Marble towers, hovercrafts, pristine lakes, _everything _Cere could ever imagine was displayed right in front of her.

The trained slowed and slowed until it gradually came to a stop. Cere had never been so confused in all her life. The eyes of the people screaming her and Fait's names (as well as a couple for Benedict and Benton) gave off a feeling of pure love and admiration. _How can they send people they treat like gods of to die? Why do they look so enthralled by us, only to cheer when our blood is spilt? _

"Remember everything I told you two" said Amelus and he placed a palm on both tributes' backs. He pushed them towards the door and made sure his face was visible between their two heads.

They stepped onto the stone platform, engulfed by the roar of the people. "_Cere sign this; it's Amelus Hall; fuck me, Fait." _Screams, shouts and bellows. Everything was all happening so fast. To be truthful, Cere felt it was more of an angry riot that a crowd. Cere was certain she looked stupid with her back so straight, but Amelus told her she looked nice and he was from the Capitol. Cere maintained her posture the whole way to the sleekest car she had ever seen, before being driven to Tribute Tower, one of the largest skyscrapers in the whole city. Benton asked if they wanted to have a quick look at the training center before going to their living quarters, but both Cere and Fait needed some rest, mainly for their eardrums.

The elevator was quick and when the metal doors opened the pair from District 3 were awestruck.

**Kirste Doherty – District 6**

"Beautiful isn't it?" Grier Oldham asked the pair, spinning on the balls of his feet as he took in the apartments decor. "Something I'd really take advantage of is the Avoxs." The small man raised his finger and pointed at an odd looking girl in the corner of the room. "Hardly anyone can afford them. Even on my salary I refrain from an Avox, although I do hire two for my annual party."

It was sickening how the Avox's were treated, but Kirste couldn't be surprised, what with the Hunger Games and all. He and Savannah looked silently at the girl and she looked silently onto them, but unlike the former criminal Kirste and Savannah chose their silence.

Grier explained where he would be staying in relation to the two tributes from District 6 before showing them to their separate rooms. A small part of Kirste wanted to share a room with Savannah, but the chances of anything happening were next to nothing. Although the girls at school thought he was attractive, it was for his personality if nothing else. But Savannah was three years Kirste's senior and one of – if not – the most attractive people he had laid eyes upon. Everything about the girl was perfectly in proportion, her arse, her tits, her body was just perfect.

After Grier ushered Kirste into his bedroom he went straight for the shower. It was known that Kirste showered a lot as he hated feeling sweaty (and he sweat a lot), but he was perfectly clean when he got under the gigantic showerhead. It hadn't been long since Kirste first masturbated, so he was in the full swing of things, getting horny over the slightest thing which before had no sexual appeal to him. Savannah was enough to keep him in the shower for days, but since Kirste was due to meet his stylist within the half hour he came pretty quickly. _What if I _need _to bust one out in the arena? _He dismissed the thought, as it was unlikely that he would make it past the first hour.

Not long after he was dry and dressed (sporting a pink top that Kirste would deem to feminine to wear back at home), Grier pulled him out of his room and into the lounge.

"Remember, I'm not just your escort, Kirste. I'm your _mentor _too. Understand? If you want to discuss tactics with me at any moment, I'm your man." Sporting a multicoloured something over his torso with pink hair, a grey cloak and the skinniest pants he'd ever seen, Kirste doubted even that. Grier himself was young (Kirste and Savannah had agreed that he was anything from twenty-two to twenty-seven) and was shorter than Kirste with squinted eyes that made him sort of look like a beaver, but despite this Kirste couldn't even deny the man's attractiveness, albeit for his dress sense.

As was accustom to most of Grier's prepositions and questions, a silence followed. "Hmph" he pouted. "Well I hope you're more responsive to Leste… Your stylist?" Kirste stared at him blankly still.

When Grier began to leave the room in a fuss, a strange part of Kirste made him call out: "Do you think I should run?" Grier turned on the balls of his feet once again and raised an eyebrow in question. "From the cornucopia, I mean… Do you think I should run? I'm the fasted boy in my year at school, well except for Moll, but he's insane."

"I think you should." Savannah stood atop a flight of stairs leading up to her room. She wore a half a black vest so that her belly button was showing, letting her blonde hair fall beneath her breast. Her legs were covered by white pants with matching high heels on her feet. She looked as though she had descended from heaven itself. Kirste noticed his mouth was ajar, showing his disgusting crooked teeth that he despised so much, and quickly shut it. _She must think I'm an idiot. _Her stylist was going to love her, whereas Kirste's was going to have a bit more of a challenge.

It was long until Kirste's stylist was going to find out. All three of the room's incumbents turned their heads at the sound of the elevator doors sliding open with a metallic swish. Two men stood at the doors. The man on Kirste's left had a wide face, a large grin and two big bushy eyebrows. Atop his head was a swirl of cream hair whilst he wore a grey suit. He looked a lot less eccentric and stupid as Grier, and Kirste hoped that this man was his stylist. He almost looked normal if not for the hair colour and the gloves that looked like they were made of glass.

The man on the right was dark-skinned with large lips and an equally big smile (it was clear the two of them were looking forward to this). The hair atop his head was streaked with a variety of colours and began to spiral down into dreadlocks that fell below his waist. A portly man, he wore a maroon type garb with a blue bird embroidered into it whilst his legs were covered with simple black pants.

"Which one of you is mine?" Savannah asked whilst walking down her stairs, using the forward tone she often used. It was clear she was no stranger to male attention. Before either of them could answer Savannah held out her hand to the pale man and to the dark man, respectively. "My name is Savannah, what are your names?"

_I better introduce myself before they start to think I'm some loser. _"I'm Kirste!" he blathered, awkwardly moving forward with his arm extended (more like a zombie than a gentleman).

"Well aren't you two eager!" said the man on the right. "I'm Holland, and this is my fellow stylist, Sherlock."

Grier stepped forward and pulled the two tributes a polite distance from the stylists. "To answer your question, Savannah, Holland will be your stylist whilst Sherlock will be yours, Kirste." _Yes_. "Now chop chop everybody, into the elevator we go. You'll be getting ready in the first basement floor. The parade will be on the ground floor, obviously." He began to hurry the pairs into the elevator, and as the doors were closing he strained: "I'll see you back here wh-". The doors came to a halt.

"What are you gonna dress us in?" asked Kirste, but his question was answered with silence and stillness, with the exception of a smirk that Holland and Sherlock shared. Once they arrived at the bottom floor, the pair separated.

"You'll find out what you're outfit will be soon enough" purred Sherlock, with a smooth, delightful way of speaking.

"Are you going to make us look like idiots?" Kirste said in a softer tone than usual. Somehow he thought it made the question seem less rude. Sherlock remained silent as the two walked into their own room. He seemed to be quite a quiet man for Kirste's liking. Sherlock gestured at a shower (one looking a lot more industrial than the one in the living quarters) and turned his back on Kirste. It was pretty clear what he had to do. He had a quick shower, keeping to himself about having one less than an hour ago, and was taken (still naked) to a cold table that he had to lay on.

"You don't have to be embarrassed" Sherlock said with half a smile, nodding to Kirste's southern region. Kirste looked down to see himself covering his privates from the stranger. Slowly and awkwardly he moved his hands either side of his body. "This is where we usually shave the tributes, but you have hardly any hair about you so I think we can skip this part." It was true. Kirste only had a few pubes and his armpit hair was no more than fuzz on a peach.

Three strange people that looked sort of like doctors walked in and began to scrub at Kirste. They plucked his eyebrows and trimmed his hair, all under the instruction and watch from Sherlock. After about ten minutes, still whilst they showed no signs of completion, Sherlock waved a hand and offered his to Kirste. When on his feet, Sherlock threw some tight, green boxer shorts at Kirste and after he put them on he was dragged into yet another room. Opposite the door, in front of a small raised platform, was the mannequin.

"Is that it?" asked Kirste, stating the obvious. With yet another question unanswered, Sherlock walked over to the manikin, pulled a small devise out of his pocket and pressed a button. The same three people walked in and pushed Kirste towards the dummie and onto a pedestal before deconstructing the outfit and replicating it on Kirste. He requested to look at himself in the mirror but was refused. Soon after it was done they began on his hair and make-up, and about ten minutes later Sherlock took him over to the mirror.

_I look ridiculous. _The front of his torso was covered in a hard, silver plastic, giving off the impression of metal. It was admittedly a nice colour, giving of a platinum/chrome sort of feel. His back was covered in the same thing, but it was a bit of a darker shade. All over his body symmetrical wings sprouted from him. Underneath either one of his arms hung a wheel, or propeller. On the back of his heels were two small cylinders with a white-orange glow coming from the inside of them. Even Kirste's strawberry blonde hair was styled into the image of a flame. _I'm a hovercraft. _

"You were a challenge," said Sherlock as he circled Kirste, two fingers placed on his chin. Kirste hadn't seen much of the same smile he first saw when looking upon his stylist. "Savannah being as beautiful as she is, Holland has gone for a more revealing look. You – a thirteen year old – are too young to sexualize, and your awkward start at puberty has ruined my shot at the 'cute' or 'innocent' look. He stood behind Kirste and beckoned him to look at the mirror. "I think it's a perfect combination of both soldier and vehicle.

"Peacekeeper and hovercraft" Kirste said, his eyes fixed at the strange mirror's feet.

"Precisely. "

"Can I see Savannah, please?" Kirste asked with a childlike tone.

Sherlock began to nod, continuing to evaluate his work with the child. "Yes… Yes… I will go and see if Holland is done." Before exiting the room Sherlock took one long look at Kirste, gave a nod and left through the door.

After about five minutes Sherlock and his cackle of mini-stylists showed Kirste into an elevator and he found himself in the lobby of the training parade, surrounded by other tributes and horses.

It only took one glance at Savannah and Kirste already felt himself going hard.

Rather than having her wheels hanging from her arms like Kirste, Savannah's outfit had smaller versions fixed on her breasts. The little metallic plastic that covered her went over her arms and legs rather than over her back or stomach. Her hair had been trimmed slightly and fell over her left shoulder in a long spiral stopping towards her naked belly button. Kirste was gob smacked. _How could someone look so good in something I look so stupid in?_ Kirste remembered what Savannah looked like even when she was reaped, so he quickly found an answer to that question.

Awkward small talk between the pair form 6 came to an end when they were ushered to their chariot. The blonde girl from District 2 glared at Kirste, sending a shiver down his spine. It was unlikely – after winning back-to-back-to-back Hunger Games – that District 2 were going to send a whelp into the arena. On the opposite side of the spectrum, he shared a smile with the eastern girl from District 7, which made him feel happy. _It's nice to know some people remain decent people even during this experience. _But Kirste would have to wait until the sound of the gong to see if the girl was still smiling at him.

Savannah turned to Kirste and opened her mouth, but before she could say something the doors of the great lobby opened and the screams and cheers of the Capitol spilled into the twenty-four tribute's ears. Whilst his District partner stayed perfectly still with a straight posture and a pout spread across her lips, Kirste leant to the side and caught a glimpse of District 1's chariot as it spurred forward. Kirste carried on looking until District 4's chariot began to move and he quickly moved into a stance similar to Savannah's.

"Good luck out there" Kirste whispered to Savannah. "You're gonna blow them away."

Savannah smiled a warm, hearty smile at Kirste before the chariot began to slowly move, as if the horses had intelligence equal to their own. _Probably some Capitol tech_.

As they moved forward the tributes from District 4 were being projected on the large screens. A thin girl with shoulder length brown hair and a long horsey face waved her hand whilst her District partner did the same, a spotty boy wearing glasses with small eyes and broad shoulders.

They had travelled for about twenty seconds when District 5's pair replaced the careers, showing a wide-eyed girl with chubby cheeks, dimples and thick eye make-up, whilst her District partner had freckles, dimples and an upturned nose.

As far as Kirste could hear, District 1 was getting the best reception, with screams and shouts for "_Sarinus & Bolt!","District 1!"_ and other chants in their favour. All of a sudden Kirste felt a gasp in the arena as half of the videos projected his own face, the other half showing Savannah.

_The crowd love her. _

As Kirste Doherty and Savannah Christie from District 6 were announced they chants for District 1 slowly warped into _"District 6 to win!""Savannah Christie!"_ Roses, money, the lot were all thrown at the pair whilst the horses galloped down the path. Kirste knew that the attention wasn't for him, but he was grateful all the same. "

Kirste looked to Savannah and the pair beamed at eachother before Kirste turned and looked straight at the President. All of a sudden he felt a soft, wet touch on his cheek and as he glanced to the screens he saw that Savannah was kissing him on the cheek (not in a romantic way, but rather in a friendly, familiar way). Kirste felt himself turn erect as he began to blush, adding to the fluster of embarrassment. The crowd loved the bold act and even as District 7, 8 and so forth entered, District 6 stayed at the tops of everybody's lungs.

As District 12's chariot left the lobby the chariots began to swerve into a semi-circle in front of the Presidents balcony. When they were all in a line, the cheers for District 1 and District 6 continued to ring through the crowds. Perhaps, even if Savannah didn't make it past the bloodbath, the Capitol would still route for Kirste through association for the Capitol's new celebrity. _Who knows?_

**Sarinus Wilde – District 1**

Sarinus couldn't help feeling anger towards Bolt. It was clear that he was the most attractive male tribute; the cheering proved that right. It was his District partner that fucked everything up. The girl from District 6 was far more attractive than her and she had stolen all of Sarinus' thunder. He found it hard to keep a smile on his face whilst President Henry Cable stepped forward towards the microphone and began his speech.

He tried to maintain his façade of interest for the whole speech, but he couldn't help but avert his attention every now and again to the girl from 6 who continued to pout and bat her eyelids towards the cameras. "_Six, six, six" _the faint chart continued through the President's words.

Sarinus and Bolt were dressed in blue silks, revealing his defined abs and her large breasts. The two from 6 were dressed like fools. The boy was nothing, an ugly thirteen year old with a large forehead and disgusting teeth. _The girl is everything, and she'll be my first target in the arena. _He was interested in seeing what her training score would be.

Suddenly Sarinus realised he had been glaring at the pair from District 6 for a while, and whilst he was looking at the girl the little runt turned and looked back at him. Sarinus suddenly zapped back into reality and continued to smile and tense for the cameras.

The rest of the speech was uneventful and the crowd picked up again as the chariots returned to the lobby underneath the Tribute Tower. The pair from 1 met up with Blink and Mineral and complimented them on their performance. Sarinus wanted to shield his bad mood from the mentors so he walked over to the elevator just as the doors were closing. He stuck his foot in the door, watched as the doors slid open and walked inside.

Standing in front of him was the pair from District 9: a small tanned girl with no hopes of surviving ten minutes in the Games and a tall boy with defined bone structure. He'd be more of a challenge to kill.

Sarinus glared at the boy and barked "One", instructed him to press the button whilst asserting his District. The two were dressed in golden silks and cottons, creating the illusion that they themselves were 'grain', a costume idea he'd seen District 9 tributes dressed in time and time again.

The brute turned his back on his prey and stared at the door as it started to move. "Sarinus Wilde, District 1" stated the girl with an intelligent tone way above her age.

"I'm Sven" he heard a low grumble with a slightly odd accent. "This is Livian. We're from District 9." Sarinus could tell by the shuffle of the boy's ridiculous outfit that he must of extended his hand for a handshake. Sarinus remained staring forward. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

_Why is this elevator being so fucking slow._

After an awkward couple of seconds Sarinus turned around, not taking the boy's sweaty palm. "It's great that you find it a pleasure to be meeting the boy that will probably kill you." He turned to the little girl with long dark hair. "And you. It's nice to know that even when staring into the face of death, you keep your manners about you. Nice costumes by the way," he concluded with a giggle. He enjoyed watching the stunned tributes look at their outfits as if they were dressed in cow shit. It was a good idea to knock the confidence of other tributes. Now they saw Sarinus as a threat as apposed to another child. _Perfect_.

A small bell rang and Sarinus stepped out of the elevator, his broad back facing the weaklings. He strode forward into the living room. His slight conversation with the pair from 9 had lightened his mood, but he was still pissed off at being number two behind some bitch from District 6. _Of all the Districts…_

"If luxury was ever District 1's industry, it is because of what I just watched!" Meredith Aliabadi ran towards Sarinus with open arms. _Fuck. _He'd forgotten that the annoying woman would be waiting in the apartment for him to arrive.

"Thanks, Meredith" Sarinus replied letting the woman embrace him in her arms. He could feel her heartbeat through her red floral dress.

"The way you looked! _Look! _It's incredible. I told you that Rica Imam really is the best stylist. You and Bolt, oh my!" She moved Sarinus' head slightly to the left and furrowed her brows. "Where is my favourite girl?" She stood back from Sarinus and just as he was about to lie that she had an outfit malfunction Meredith butted: "Probably just talking to her admirers". She nudged Sarinus in the stomach with her elbow and gave him a suggestive wink.

"I don't doubt you have your own admirers," she continued as she headed back to the sofa where her bright yellow drink was waiting for her, a wedge of pineapple sticking off of the glass. "The way you and Bolt looked upon your chariots! So stunning that the Gamemakers themselves might prevent your death as not to anger Panem."

Sarinus let Meredith continue showering him with compliments, all whilst thinking about the whore from District 6. Bolt, Mineral and Blink soon joined the pair, allowing him to leave Meredith's company and retire into his own bedroom. He took one long glance at himself in the mirror and nodded. It was truly the best he had looked in his life. It was a marvel his parents had created something so perfect. He removed the garb until he was in his underwear and walked over to the mirror. His and Bolt's windows were the lowest as far as the living quarters were concerned, but this didn't prevent an astonishing view. From here he could just make out the train station where he entered the Capitol, one of the happiest moments in his entire life.

As he was looking out into the distance there was a light tap on his door. Sarinus felt no need to cover up – he was not shy of his body. He opened the door to see Meredith's face, gaping at his body. He could have his way with the woman, but she wasn't attractive enough for him, and probably too old for him. _Still, it would be nice to fuck some broad before entering the arena. _Perhaps it would boost his testosterone.

"Oh goodness! I didn't mean to interrupt… I can come back another time? There's a dressing gown in-" Meredith broke into a flustered giggle. "Sorry, I must sound like a drunken duck blathering on in front of you!" Sarinus could see that Meredith's breathing speed had doubled, her smile big yet weak. She was struggling to hold it together in his presence.

"Goodness, I… I forgot what I came here for…" She paused and thought for a second. "Ah! Yes! How stupid of me" she giggled. "As you know, District's 1, 2 and 4 don't exactly follow the rules for the whole 'no training' thing." She waved her hands around like a headless chicken. "These – 'benefits' – don't stop in the Capitol. We have a way of – well; let's just say there are some things the cameras turn a blind eye too. If you could get dressed, meet me by the elevator as soon as possible. We're going to meet your allies."

As she walked away Sarinus quickly threw some luxurious, tight clothes on and jogged to the elevator. Bolt followed with Mineral and Blink by her side. "Did Meredith tell you?" Bolt squeaked, too excitable for Sarinus' liking. "We're going to meet the tributes from 2 and 4!"

After Sarinus nodded, Mineral added, "We'll be meeting them and their mentors down at the Training Centre. Might I remind you that this is all very illegal, so when you arrive tomorrow morning you're going to act as though it's the first time you've ever seen them, or that room, unless you've already spoken to any of them?" Mineral was looking down at them as he stood at a tremendous height. He waited for a small pause and said, "That's what I thought."

As the four stepped into the elevator he added "I haven't had a chance to talk to Caitlyn yet – 4's mentor. Sometimes some of the children from 4 don't go through training and are weak and pointless in your alliance. Neither of them look like much to me, but I could be wrong."

Mineral stepped towards the door and pressed the button with the letters 'TC' imprinted on it. As it lit up he stood back. "You too looked amazing out there. Far better than the pairs from 2 and 4." _No arguments there. _"There may be a slight bit of resentment felt towards the both of you, but if they're clever they'll try to hide it. If you yourselves feel any anger or hatred towards them, save it for the arena. The last thing you want is to be without a team in the Games.

"Got it" Bolt acknowledged.

"And at the same time," Mineral continued, "Don't get too attached. These children are going to die." He shared a look with Blink, a slight look of pain or sadness. "They might abandon you when you need them. They may die at your own hands or in your own arms. They may stab you in the back – figuratively or literally. There's no more I think I can say."

The elevator made a small ping and the doors opened. The four residents of District 1 stepped forward into the gymnasium. Even in the absence of light Sarinus could make out the assault courses, the stacks of weights and weapons, the stations filled with survival equipment, everything and anything the Hunger Games might contain. _Tomorrow is going to be fun._

They turned around and waited for the rest of the tributes to join them. They watched anxiously as the screen above the elevator counted down and as the light flashed the same familiar ping shrilled through the air. The doors opened and out stepped four tributes from District 2.

Aikuchi Godson was first to step into the Training Centre. The red-haired, high-tempered victor had a foxy face, an attractive girl. She was the same age as Sarinus, having won last year's Games. She was shorter than him, but was slightly taller than the average girl. Her left breast wasn't small but wasn't large, a perky size which Sarinus himself enjoyed. Her right breast, however, was absent as a result of a fight between her and a girl from District 3.

Caleb Pocock followed her. A blonde, stacked man with a large head, Caleb was District 2's first victor and was now in his mid-thirties. Even his stance intimidated Sarinus, even though they were probably the same height. Just the way he stood screamed '_VICTOR'_.

After him came this year's tributes. The boy was scrawny. With dark brown hair, straight white teeth and a red patch above his cheeks where he had obviously caught the sun, the boy stood anywhere between Sarinus' nipple or chin. _Easy kill_, he assessed. The girl was taller and broader. Her chubby face and blonde hair gave her an appearance similar to Blink's. She had large breasts (not as large as Bolt's). Depending on her age, Sarinus could see him sleeping with her, albeit for her unattractive aura. Without having sex in the last month, Sarinus found himself willing to bed almost any girl that came within sight.

Everyone introduced himself or herself and Sarinus and Bolt found out that their allies were named Chriss and Kyra (Bolt claimed she knew that already but she was lying through her teeth). Mid introduction the elevator rang again.

First to step out what a girl who later introduced herself to be Amelie. She stood at around Sarinus' height with a long face and stringy brown hair. She had weight, but was more bone than muscle as her collarbones could be seen even through her t-shirt. Her mentor was Caitlyn Catala. She was in her late twenties with long, blonde hair that was famously dyed by her stylists before she entered the arena. She was about as tall as Amelie with a sharp, beak-like nose and hollow eyes. The boy was called Castor, a camp boy with acne and glasses. He had a messy tuft of brown hair that Sarinus considered unattractive.

The party of careers made small talk: what weapons they preferred; what they were most looking forward too; their opinions of the other tributes. There were many mini-conversations going on between various pairs and trios and after a couple minutes there was a hush in the room. Castor was the one to break it.

"Well with all that's been said, may the odds be forever in our favour, especially within this group of six." Castor addressed the children among them with his arms. _I don't like this kid, _decided Sarinus. _He seems like a 'luck is on our side' prick. He'd probably be religious if it wasn't forbidden._

"Judging by our size and muscle," the boy continued, "I would say that the victor would be among us. All of our District's have won the most Games between us. If we work together, we should be able to save one of our lives." _Who the fuck is this kid? He states the obvious and babbles on about saving each other. _Sarinus scowled, and Mineral noticed. "I think it's best if we stay together throughout the training process. That way we can learn as much about each other as we can."

"I completely disagree," butted in Chriss. "If we act as though this year we're staying separate, or if we're weak, the opposition will let their guard down. They'll treat us just as they will each other. Perhaps they'll even try to strike an alliance with us! As the old going says: 'keep your friends close but you're enemies closer."

"I'm sorry to disagree with you, Chriss," squealed Bolt. "I don't know if you've watched as many Hunger Games as I have, but the one's where the careers die are the one's where they separate. I hate to speak on behalf of the mentors. I know I'd hate it if some kid tried to guess what life in the arena was like. But, with that said, I think they'd all agree that if we stay together –"

"You'll stay alive." It was the first thing Caitlyn Catala had said that Sarinus had heard. "The only thing that kept me alive in my Games was my District partner. We split up for a couple days, and they were the hardest. All that in mind, it was even harder to lose a friend I held so close."

"Aikuchi, Kyra, Chriss and myself have all discussed this idea. We have advised him against this and we wanted to bring forth his opinion to all of you. However, Chriss is still his own man and may make his own decisions." Caleb gave his pupil a hearty pat on the back. "I'm sure he'll come to make the right one."

"As I said," Castor began again. "The key to staying alive is by working together. When winter comes, it is the pack who survives and the lone animal that dies."

"What do you think the arena is going to be like?" asked Kyra, changing the conversation completely. Judging from the way she asked it, Sarinus assumed she hated Castor as much as he did. Since he had started talking, Kyra had removed herself from the circle to a small window and was looking at the sky. There was a notable absence of stars, a feat due to light pollution.

"I think something industrial," Sarinus himself said. All eyes were on him, just as he liked it, however a small part of him felt uncomfortable with all _these _eyes on him. "The past couple of years the head Gamemaker has encorporated buildings or modern structure into the arenas. I wouldn't be surprised to see a repeat of that."

"I can't imagine something too modern though," squealed back his District partner. "Maybe they'll base it on a District – probably an outlying one – to give an advantage to a certain District they want to see win the Games."

"I think I partially agree, Bolt" replied Mineral in his cool, calm tone. "I can imagine them basing their arena on the mountains of District 2, or the mines of District 12, but not to place forth an advantage to anyone." He walked further towards the gymnasium and picked up a knife off of a weapons rack. It wasn't too big, maybe the length of his wrist to his elbow, the blade serrated and curved towards him. He began to lightly twizzle the weapon in his palm. "No matter what arena is thrown at you, you four have the advantage. I heard a rumor they might start the Games in water. Who else do you think can swim other than you four?"

"No one" answered Sarinus.

"No one" repeated Bolt. There was another silence. "I think we should probably head back kinda soon. If we want to threaten the tributes, it's best we'd be rested." There were a couple nods and murmurs of approval. "It was lovely to finally meet you all. See you all tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Bolt," called Castor as she headed for the elevator.

"Goodnight everyone," said Aikuchi with a fire-like breath amongst her words. "Remember, right now we are all on the same side. We are a team. We are a family."

_I wonder how many families have to end up killing each other…_


End file.
